


In A Breath

by ImagineYourself



Series: A Thousand Unfinished Books [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Series, Season/Series 04, Some Weecest?, Songfic, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:10:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2775896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineYourself/pseuds/ImagineYourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you miss him?”</p>
<p>Sam considered saying no, that he didn't miss his asshole of a brother who promised him everything only to take it away each time he drove away without Sam in the seat beside him. “More than anything,” he ended up choking out. He washed the taste of the words from his mouth with more beer and definitely didn't think about the picture of Dean that he kept in his wallet, edges worn with time and ingrained with Sam's fingerprints.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In A Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively: three times Dean held Sam's shoulder and one time Sam held his. Plus some other stuff. 
> 
> Anyway, from the moment this album came out and I heard this song I knew I needed to write this. Honestly I want to write fic to like half of New Empire's songs though.   
> Playlist is:  
> In A Breath ~ New Empire  
> Only Place I Call Home ~ Every Avenue  
> Leave It All Behind ~ STRFKR

_I'm saving the pictures of your soul_

_To some you're just a memory_

_To me you're home_

 

The shop was old and dusty and the only people there besides Sam and Dean were a couple of old folks glancing through the books. Dean was over looking at clothes, like Sam should have been doing, but instead he wandered by the glass cases at the front. They were filled with all sorts of knickknacks and junk and jewelry, but Sam wasn't interested in any of that. One little contraption stole his eye and he leaned over the glass to get a better look at it.

“You a photographer, kid?” A scratchy voice startled Sam into looking up so quickly he was afraid he may have hurt his neck. The owner of the store was sitting behind the counter to his right, watching him with a half-amused tilt of his lips. At least, Sam thought so, most of the lower half of his face was covered in a graying beard.

“No,” he answered finally. “Just... interested.” Sam's eyes turned back to the old camera that lay below the glass. “Does it work?”

The older man got off the stool he was sitting on and came closer. “Yep. Made in '64, one of the first of the new kinds.” As he spoke, he unlocked the case and pulled out a Polaroid camera, handing it to Sam. “You can try it out if you like.”

Sam carefully took it into his hands, turning it around and letting the strap run between his fingers before he slipped it over his neck. He glanced around the store and found Dean standing not too far, still looking through the various racks of clothing. “Hey, Dean,” he called out. The flash went off as soon as Dean turned, Sam's name almost definitely on his lips.

“Dude!” Dean huffed, blinking rapidly.

Sam grinned and pulled the photo from the front of the camera, shaking it around until it started to come into focus. He took the camera off and set it gently back onto the glass. “Thank you,” he told the owner.

“Sure you don't wanna buy it?” the guy asked.

Sam glanced at the picture in his hand, eyes tracing the lines of his brother's face. “Not this time.” He looked towards where that brother was rubbing his eyes every few seconds, a smile on his face.

They left not too long after, and once they were back in the Impala, Sam grabbed a pen and scribbled onto the back of his photograph _“Georgetown '98”_. He tucked it into his jacket pocket, and sat back for a long ride, Dean's hand touching his shoulder as his arm was resting along the back of the seat.

 

_And I will never say I don't miss you_

_'Cause I can't lie you know me too well_

 

_As your feet hit the floor in silence_

_You pass me the clothes I hide them_

 

Dean padded out of the bathroom, bare feet stopping next to Sam. The younger boy was standing still beside the bed, duffel bag open on the offensively bright floral print comforter that he'd been sleeping with for going on two weeks. But John had returned early that morning to drag Sam to Bobby's for a week or two while he and Dean went on a hunt.

Sam was tense, even when his brother laid a heavy hand upon his shoulder. “I'm fifteen, not a child.”

“You're always gonna be a kid, Sammy. That's how it works.” Dean's voice hinted he was trying to be funny, but Sam turned to him sharply.

“I don't want to be a kid anymore, Dean. I don't want to keep being left behind to worry about you and Dad while you're gone. I don't want to keep having nightmares that something is gonna go wrong and I'm not there to—” Sam broke off in a choked sob.

With both hands now on Sam's shoulders, Dean spoke quietly. “Sam, look at me.” He waited until Sam raised his eyes and met his green gaze that was far older than it should have been for a nineteen year old. “Nothing is going to go wrong, okay?” Sam nodded slowly. “Besides, you know how stubborn I am, no dumb monster is gonna get to me that easily.” Dean grinned infectiously and had Sam smiling in seconds, too.

“I know, Dean.” Sam slid his arms around Dean's middle, hugging him tightly and relaxing only once his brother returned the gesture just as tight and pressed a kiss to Sam's messy hair.

 

_And I will never say I don't miss you_

_'Cause I can't lie you know me too well_

 

_And I'll see you in a breath I will_

_See you in a breath_

 

Sam was barely sixteen and sitting at the table in the little motel room they were staying at in Gila Bend. He looked out the window and watched his brother toss his duffel in the trunk of the Impala before shutting it and turning to John. Their father clapped Dean on the shoulder and went around to get in the driver's seat as Dean walked back across the parking lot. A blast of hot air followed him through the door and into the room and Sam stood to meet him in a hug.

“You sure you're gonna be okay on your own here?” Dean asked, hands unwavering on Sam's shoulders.

“Yeah, Dean, I'll be fine. It's just a few days.” Sam wore a reassuring smile as he spoke.

“Don't get into trouble,” the elder brother warned.

Rolling his eyes, Sam just replied, “I never do.”

Dean grinned and ruffled his brother's hair with one hand, letting his palm slide down and cup Sam's jaw. He leaned down enough to fit his lips over Sam's in a familiar and soft kiss. He pulled away a few seconds later to see the curl of Sam's mouth. “I'll be back soon, Sammy.”

As he left, Sam took his seat back at the table, pulling from his pocket the picture of Dean that he'd taken nearly a year before. He set it on the cracked plastic before him and tilted his head to look out the window. Dean waved once before sliding into the passenger side of his car. Sam waved back as they drove away, sighing to himself and leaning his chin in his palm.

 

_I'll see you in a breath I will_

 

_I'll take care of the dirty sheets_

_Cause you always met my need_

 

Sam rolled over onto the warm spot that Dean was leaving behind as he sat up on the edge of the bed and stretched his arms over his head. Blinking slowly, Sam watched as the late morning light coming through the blinds haloed his brother's naked body. Glorious miles of tan, scarred skin lay before him and Sam couldn't help but reach a hand out and trace lines over Dean's lean muscles.

“Morning,” Dean said, turning enough to flash his trademark smile at Sam. The younger Winchester blinked at him, lips curling in a sleepy imitation.

“Hey.” The word was mumbled into the pillow and Sam let his hand fall limply to the bed. He felt as if he could use about ten more hours of sleep. But that was normal. “What time is it?”

“'Bout nine.”

Sam groaned. His brother stood and he reached out a hand to catch him, missing by inches. “Where you goin'?”

Dean laughed low in his throat, heavy with sleep still. “Shower. Meet me there?”

With the huff of a laugh, Sam replied, “You bet.”

.

An hour later the two were finally clean and sitting at a diner down the street from the motel they'd spent the night in. Sam was nursing a cup of coffee in his hands, head thrown back as he laughed at a joke Dean had made. He pulled himself together only as the waitress came over to take their orders—“Two specials please, thanks sweetheart,”—and looked across the table to see the smile fading fast from his brother's eyes.

“Dean?” Sam asked cautiously, leaning forward slightly.

“Listen, Sammy,” Dean started, sighing out a breath. “Dad wants me to meet him up in Washington in a couple of days.” Sam was silent, waiting for him to continue. “So I can't stay tonight again. I gotta leave pretty soon actually if I wanna get there in time.”

“Oh.” Sam swallowed as he shrugged and said, “It's okay.”

“Sam, I know—”

“Dean,” the younger man cut him off. “It's okay.” He smiled reassuringly.

“You sure?” Dean waited for his nod before relaxing incrementally. “I'll drive you back after we eat.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam told him, looking down into his coffee.

 

_You can drive be back to school_

_If it means I get to sit next to you_

 

They sat in the Impala in the parking lot outside of Sam's dorm. Both brothers resolutely stared out the windshield at the various students passing by along the sidewalks. Groups of twos and threes were common, as was the occasional person walking their dog. There were even a few larger groups of rowdy college students, probably heading to eat after a night of drinking.

“I should probably go work on homework,” Sam finally said, his voice loud in the silence of their parting.

“Yeah,” Dean replied simply. Sam almost reached for the door handle then, but he stopped himself as Dean spoke again. “I wish it could be different just as much as you do.”

“You mean you—”

“I mean I wish it was easier for us. That I could be here more often. That I could give you more than a call and a quick fuck every once in a while.” Dean's voice got harder as he talked and when he finished, he turned to meet Sam's eyes.

Sam moved to face his brother, reaching out and placing a hand on Dean's neck where it met his shoulder. “It's never going to be easy for us. And if that's all I can get for now, I'll take it. I'll take anything you give me.” He leaned forward and brought their lips together for a long moment. When he pulled away, Dean slowly opened his eyes. “Keep an eye out for cases around here,” Sam said with a smile.

With that, Sam twisted back around and left the car, walking towards the entryway of his building. He looked over his shoulder, turning just in time to see Dean backing out before leaving the parking lot, pulling into the street that would take him further from Sam than he really liked to think. He stood there, long past the moment the Impala was out of sight, just breathing in the midday sun.

 

_And I will never say I don't miss you_

_'Cause I do_

 

Sam was two shots of tequila and three beers in when someone sat down at the bar beside him. The bartender, a pretty thing that gave Sam sympathetic eyes as she brought him his drinks, set a beer on the counter, prompting Sam to look up long enough to see who it was. He snorted at the grin beside him before dropping his gaze back to the bowl of nuts to his left.

“Funny seeing you here,” Jess said softly, her smile plain as day in her voice.

“Yeah? Why's that?” Sam asked, his words already starting to slur. He really needed to slow down, considering he'd only been there about forty-five minutes. Alternatively, he could never stop.

“You weren't at home and I knew you didn't have class so I figured I'd come here, grab a drink, and call you to meet me.”

“Huh,” Sam laughed. “Then I guess it is funny.” Jess didn't reply so Sam glanced over at her, surprised to see concern lining her face. “What?”

“It's just... You're not the type to come to a bar just to drink alone for fun.” She paused for breath and a swig of her beer. “What's wrong?”

Sam sighed, finishing his beer and signaling for the bartender to get him another. “It's stupid.”

“Not to you.”

“Why d'you say that?”

“Cause you're getting drunk over it, whatever it is.”

Sam had to admit that her logic was pretty damn sound. “I'm celebrating.” He barked out a caustic laugh. Jess was frowning when he looked over at her again. “My brother hasn't called me in a year.”

“Is that a thing to celebrate?”

“What do you think?” Sam slumped his shoulders and leaned heavily on the bar.

“Why don't you just call him?” Jess asked him gently.

Laughing again, Sam shook his head. “He changed his number. Months ago.”

They were silent for a long while, both sipping at their drinks, Jess looking sadder every time Sam glanced over, ultimately stopping after a tendril of guilt wrapped around his throat for making her look like that. He couldn't bring himself to say anything more, though.

After a few minutes, Jess put her hand on his back. “Do you miss him?”

Sam considered saying no, that he didn't miss his asshole of a brother who promised him everything only to take it away each time he drove away without Sam in the seat beside him. “More than anything,” he ended up choking out. He washed the taste of the words from his mouth with more beer and definitely didn't think about the picture of Dean that he kept in his wallet, edges worn with time and ingrained with Sam's fingerprints.

 

_And I'll see you in a breath I will_

_See you in a breath_

_I'll see you in a breath I will_

 

“Sam.”

The whisper woke Sam from the warm cocoon of sleep. He was, however, reluctant to let it go and grumbled something unintelligible.

“Sam, I can't move.”

The voice became clear, a voice he'd known since he was a tiny little baby, swaddled in blankets. A voice he'd grown up with and had heard in every pitch, every volume. He couldn't begin to describe how many times and in how many ways his name had been said by that voice.

“Dude, seriously? I gotta piss. Jesus, you're such an octopus when you sleep.”

Sam chuckled in his chest and tightened his arms around Dean's body. “Come right back,” he mumbled, finally letting go and allowing his brother to roll out of their bed. He opened his eyes enough to see Dean's back disappear through the doorway and into the bathroom. He lay back, arms above his head, a smile on his lips. He took a deep breath.

“Whacha smiling about, Sammy?” The bed dipped as Dean returned, crawling over and leaning above Sam.

With a happy sigh, Sam looked up and met Dean's green gaze. His eyes were older than they used to be, years of hunting and years in Hell changing them forever. Still, he was the same Dean that Sam had known for all his life. The same Dean that would give him the last french fry but always had the last laugh. The same Dean he'd lost a time or seven, but always somehow managed to find again. The same Dean he'd always find again.

“Nothin',” Sam told him, smiling wider until his brother pushed their lips together. “Nothin' at all.”


End file.
